


On For Size

by SeaRoslinFalcon



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, F/M, Oneshot, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22025995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaRoslinFalcon/pseuds/SeaRoslinFalcon
Summary: The Commander and Secretary of Education meet on Caprica after the decommissioning - at a gay bar.  A/U. This was posted on BSG_kink years ago.
Relationships: William Adama/Laura Roslin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	On For Size

Bill Adama knows that he is not gay. And yet, being frakked in his ass is something Bill enjoys. Any man who claims it is 'gay' has never tried it. 

It all started during his marriage to Caro. She ruined him for traditional sex. He found out how good it could be to have his prostate stimulated early on in their relationship. Eventually her strap-on made it into their regular rotation. The more he got it from her, the more he wanted it. Being frakked raw by a woman could make him cum so hard he could shoot all the way across a pyramid court. But not even good sex could save his and Caro’s relationship. 

As a single guy in the military, he found out that getting a man to indulge him in this was much easier. That's all there was to it. Of course he can manage to get it done by himself, but it's just not as satisfying as being frakked. 

Tonight he finds himself no longer in the military and desperately in need of distraction. Being alone has been nothing short of torture since he stepped off his battlestar. And that is why he is in a seedy gay bar on the outskirts of Delphi in the middle of the week. Bill needs a little satisfaction after being wholly embarrassed by his ungrateful send-off from the Fleet. If he does not get a decent frak he will be stuck fixating on all of the shit that ended his career with a dull thud. His distraction of choice is to find a discrete Top who will frak his ass hard without any questions or judgement, and then go home.

That was the plan.

He is at the bar for less than one drink when he hears an low and incredulous "Commander?!" from a few seats down. He would recognize that sultry mettzo anywhere. Shit. He tries not to engage, wishing he could blend into the bar. But even as he is turned away he can feel her approaching and he knows the awful truth: The Secretary of Education-Laura Roslin has found him cruising at a gay bar.

"Madam Secretary," he mumbles, not even turning to look as she leans against the bar next to him. His mind goes racing for excuses.

"I wouldn’t expect to find you here.” she says without haste. "Did you know this is a..." The words “gay bar” aren't spoken but they are heard loud and clear to the both of them. The excuse is on the tip of tongue, but he can't get it out fast enough. Realization dawns when he finally look at her, her cheeks flush. "Oh, I -- I'm sorry, I didn't know you were -- I mean, not that it matters --"

"No, I --" he tries to interrupt.

"Commander, I didn't mean to pry. It is none of my business, obviously." He is surprised to see that she is the one who is flustered and blushing. "I just assumed ... I met your son and--“ She takes a breath to compose herself and her political mask is right back on. “Well, anyway. It was nice to see you.” He can tell that behind her plastered smile she is looking around to see if he is here with anyone.

"No," he asserts while shedding his glasses. "No, Secretary Roslin, I'm not --" He does not want to scare her away because he has to admit, he is attracted to her. Arguing with her was the only enjoyable thing about his last week aboard Galactica. Not that he fully recognized it at the time. But after she departed, he found himself thinking about the red haired, leggy bureaucrat who stood her ground with the Old Man. 

He wished he had not been quite such a dismissive ass upon their first meeting. She is beautiful and interesting and... "I'm not gay," he explains, lowering his voice.

"Oh," is all she says, and it is clear that his attempt to clear up any questions has failed.

"The thing is..."

"You do not have to explain anything to me," she assures.

He nods a reply, not feeling any more at ease.

"Can I buy you a drink?" she asks. And he can't think why the frak not; so he orders a whiskey and she gets a glass of red. 

"So what brings you here Madam Secretary?" he asks for lack of anything else to say.

"Oh, I come here sometimes with some of my sister's old friends. We used to all come here together before..." She trails off and eyes kind of glaze over like she's staring into nothing. "Anyway, Max and Quinceton are still around here somewhere, I think." She spots them across the dance floor and gives a small wave. "Max and Quinceton are the closest thing to a boyfriend I’ve got. They saw I needed a night off with drinks and a dancing after the past few days.”

"No kidding," he replies with a disingenuous huff.

He can see out of the corner of his eye that her response is one of pity. "Look, you have served the Colonies admirably. I should have told you before my departure. I am grateful for your service." Until now they’ve been largely facing the bar, having only some eye contact and awkward leaning-in to hear one another. When she tells him this, she turns in her barstool to face him, her slender fingers making contact with his tricep.

He knows Laura Roslin is a politician, but the way she is touching his arm and looking at him with the utmost sincerity lets him know that she isn't simply spewing rhetoric.

He looks over at her face and it’s so bright and beautiful his throat goes dry. He swallows a sip of whiskey and says, "Thank you."

She smiles back and faces forward again, a silence follows. He wants to say something, but he doesn't know how to interact with a woman he just realized he is interested in when she concomitantly found him cruising for sex in a gay bar. He’s pretty sure that Laura can figure out why he is here, and therefore his chance with her is all but blown.

"I can leave if you want," she says suddenly. "I didn't mean to interrupt if you were... you know." She shrugs, giving him a crooked smile.

"Oh," he says quickly. "No please, you are welcome company. I was --" He stops, appraising her. "You're dying to know if I'm here to find a frak, aren't you?"

She blushes, grimacing, and for a woman in her 50s it is way cuter than it should be. "Yes, I'm sorry, I know it's your private business," she says.

He smirks. "Well, I..." There's really no way out of this but with the truth, is there? "Well to be honest, Madam Secretary, I prefer women," he starts to explain quietly, taking a gulp of the whiskey for courage. "It's just there are some things women, uh, don't usually..." he pauses, clears his throat and tries again "Some things women aren't typically... and after this week, I guess I..."

"You don't have to explain if you don't want. I know I kind of pushed you into it." She pauses to take a drink and licks her lips. "But just so we're clear, you do mean women aren't as into taking it up the backdoor, right?"

His final sip of whiskey burns straight down his lungs. He coughs and he feels so pitiful. But what the hell, this conversation is already painful enough. "Not exactly... you know, more, the, eh -- the giving." He laughs at himself for sounding so coy. He's a decorated veteran with six decades of hard life behind him, but he feels the heat rise on his face from saying it out loud. "This is now officially the most embarrassing week of my life."

"No no no!" she cries sympathetically. "Don't be embarrassed. You shouldn't feel bad about what you want! It's my fault for prying. I had quite the week too, just so you know. It appears my filter is gone." She raises her eyebrows before she takes a deep swig of her wine and finishes it. He looks at her profile and can see that there is pain in her face. If he had thought of how to ask her about her bad week a second earlier he could have avoided what she asked next.

"Wait. What do you mean, women aren't into it?"

"Eh, what?"

"I always thought it was something women wanted to do but men wouldn't," she continues, as if this is a totally normal topic of conversation to have with an almost stranger. "Assuming we're talking about the same thing.” He doesn’t respond, he’s dumbfounded that she’s saying these words to him. Her brow furrows and she attempts to clarify again. “You are talking about pegging, right?"

"Yeah," he responds quietly, searching her face to figure out who this woman is; disbelieving how strange the night continues to get.  
“But no, it's been my experience that women aren't usually into that. It's not something that is easy to bring up either; it's an intimate thing to ask of a woman. Much more so than for a man." He runs a hand through his hair and avoids looking at her for a moment. "This isn't usually something I talk about with acquaintances, just so we're clear."

She quirks her eyebrow at him. "Bill, we're already talking about it."

"Fair enough," he says.

"I don't get it. What kind of woman wouldn't be into it? I thought it was something you usually had to convince the man into."

"Are you serious?" He doesn’t believe in the Gods, but he and Laura Roslin having compatible kinks might change his mind.

"I've tried to talk men into it before," she continues. "They never seem to want to. When I was dating Richa— a man who said he wanted to try it; but after I bought the equipment he backed out. Said he didn’t owe me an explanation about changing his mind. I guess for him, the fantasy was better than the reality." She frowns. "So I've never gotten the opportunity."

She looks at him almost suggestively, and he's sure his brain is playing tricks. They do not even like each other. And they are not even drunk. He has to switch topics before he tackles her to the floor of this dirty bar and gives her the opportunity her former lover mistakenly passed on. He has to say something to break the tension.

"I don't do this sort of thing often," he explains. "I swear I only come here when my Battlestar gets decommissioned by the government.” Which wins him a chuckle. “But I forgive you for that, Laura.”

She glares at him, but there's no hint of malice in her eyes. He can see she is choosing her words carefully. "Thank you Commander, but I didn’t ask for your forgiveness.” Damn. She’s sexy. “I suppose you want me to apologize for finding an educational opportunity for my students and simultaneously saving your ship from the scrap yard?”

He smiles at her sharp wit and finds he wants her more and more. "Please, it's Bill. It only seems appropriate to dispense with the formalities. I'm not a Commander anymore."

"And I have a feeling my days are numbered as a member of the cabinet.” She says cryptically. Then she smiles and looks wistful. “But I'm a little proud of my last act on the job... A Battlestar as a classroom. I think it’s going to be something special." she ponders. "I really am sorry though. My grand idea found you out of a job."

"I appreciate the apology. But The Old Girl had seen better days anyway. If the project is as successful as I think it's going to be, your Battlestar museum is going to do wonders for the students."

"You really mean that, don't you?" she asks, with hope in her eyes. He can't get over how genuine she is.

"I really mean that," he says, and he does.

"I was hard on you up there. But it turns out you are a nice guy." She touches his arm again, and even through three layers of fabric he can feel her warmth.

"Yeah?" he replies, smirking to cover the fact that he is genuinely affected by her.

She nods. "I'm glad we had this chance to talk."

"Yeah," he says, grinning. "Me too."

They end up talking for hours, neither of them indulging in more alcohol. He orders a soda water every once in a while just to avoid being thrown out.

He can no longer ignore the notion that he wants Laura Roslin. Ever since she gave him shit on his own ship and then led the applause for his speech, he's been slightly infatuated. But he didn't have time to really entertain the thought until now. Now that he's free from all of his burdens and has nothing but time.

He has not felt this at ease in a conversation in a long time. It's like talking to an old friend. Odd, that after such an perilous beginning, he manages to feel this comfortable with a woman he barely knows. She's telling him small things about herself: how she misses teaching in the classroom and likes to swim every day. He's fascinated by her facial expressions as she talks. He only wants to know and see more. 

Eventually the bartender gives last call, and Bill cannot believe how quickly the time has gone by.

"Wow, is it that late?" Laura asks, surprised.

He glances at his watch. "We've been talking for ... three hours."

She looks over at the now almost empty dance floor. "I guess your conversational skills are as good as your oratory skills," she says, flirting.

"Thank you," he replies, trying not to smile.

Her eyes suddenly go wide. "Oh, shoot. You came here to find a, eh...'date', didn't you?" She peers over the top of her glasses, scouting the room for him.

"Don't worry about it," he says, shrinking away with the reminder that she knows exactly why he came here. "Honestly I just wanted a distraction from the decommissioning." He scratches his neck and admits with a sigh of relief, "This was much better."

She smiles and pushes her glasses back in place. "Well, I'm sorry anyway," she says. After a moment she says in that irresistible velvety voice of hers, "I'll have to make it up to you."

"You had better." It's out of his mouth before he can think, and by the look on her face, his grumbling tone was maybe a little too suggestive.

She swallows, sits up straighter and squares her shoulders a little, and looks directly at him, "Just say the word."

The tension is thick between them, and his mind races to decide how he should act. She is looking at him like an invitation, and it's very tempting. His tries to tell himself that she is too successful, too beautiful, too young, too political for a washed up viper jock like him. But what does that matter? She is not looking at him like she is thinking about a relationship. She is looking at him like she wants to frak his brains out.

"We should get going," he manages to say, his voice rough. 

It breaks the moment a little, and she nods her head with a soft, "Yes we should."

When they get outside, they are in limbo. It's obvious they want to sleep together; they both know it. But it has been a while since he has picked up a woman in a bar.

"Listen," she says, obviously possessing more balls than he has. "I spoiled your plan for the evening. I hate the idea that you're going home alone to wallow."

"Don't give it another thought. I'm not --"

"So I was thinking...” she interrupts, "I still have the supplies for, you know.”

"Laura." he interjects. He wants her so badly he is almost shaking. The first woman he's been tempted by in years is trying to convince him to let her do to him the sexiest thing he can imagine. He does the only thing he can think of. He kisses her. 

There is a moment when they try to figure out how to fit together, their glasses clang at the sudden shift. But they smooth that out and he sees stars behind his eyes when they do. She is soft and receptive, her mouth opening against him as her hands frame his face and move through his hair. He knows she can feel his hardness pressed to her hip when she grinds into him.

"Frak," he groans, reaching down to cup her ass. 

She hums into his mouth and drifts her hands to his chest before slowly pushing him away. She does not say anything, just stares at him expectantly.

"I hope you are not thinking of backing out now, Adama," she purrs against his lips. Frak. No, he is not.

It takes an insane amount of effort to pull away from her long enough to make it to her car. As soon as they get in, he reaches over for another frantic kiss. She groans against his lips as she puts the key in the ignition.

"Behave yourself," she scolds as they break apart and she starts the car. For a second he is transformed into a boy sitting in her classroom, desperately trying to reign in his lust for the teacher who has no business being so frakking sexy.

Then she smirks, and leans in to meet his lips again before putting the car in gear. "Okay, that was the last one." She glares at him with another warning. 

"Yes Sir," he says with lust pulsing through his veins at the thought of what is to come. This woman is not the type of woman he ever expected to have a one night stand with. She is the type of woman he would want to wake up next to, the type of woman who deserves to be taken on extravagant dates and to meet his children (again).

He refrains from touching her until they get to her door, but then he can not stop his hands from roaming around her waist as she goes for the lock. The way she is trembling as she tries to maneuver the key makes him realize that she is desperate for him too.

As soon as the door is open, she turns and drags him roughly inside. They shed their clothes on the way to her bedroom and he is naked by the time she pushes him onto her bed.

"Tell me you want me," she demands as she climbs on top of him.

"I want you," he agrees. It doesn't surprise him that she assumes dominance, but frak it's wonderful.

Again he reminds himself that he has never believed in the Gods, but Laura Roslin might make him a believer. She could be Aphrodite incarnate.

She moves up and down his body, touching and licking him like she is the one who hit the jackpot tonight. All he can do is relish the attention as she glides over him, her pebbled nipples grazing his flesh. "How do you want to do this?" she asks, voice breathy.

"However you want," he answers with some effort. He would be willing to do pretty much anything at this point.

"You have more experience here," she counters, though the way she is commanding the situation would imply otherwise.

"Do you want me to make you come?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady. "Before you frak me?"

She trembles above him like she's as turned on as he is. "It would be a shame not to put that eloquent mouth of yours to good use.”

He half-expects her to climb up and sit on his face, so when she does not, he decides to push his luck and flip her over. Bill has always enjoyed vying for dominance in bed. And so far they have been in sync, so he gives it a shot.

She gasps as he throws her down, and he looks her in the eye to make sure she is okay with what he is doing. She nods as he moves down her body, nipping his way to his goal and then moves her legs apart. He nips at her beautiful thighs and trails his fingers around her entrance, touching everywhere but where he knows she wants it.

"Frak," she mumbles, fisting the sheets.

"Beg for it," he demands. He knows it might backfire to make the assumption she will be turned on by this dynamic, but he is trusting his pilot’s intuition.

"Please, Bill," she complies, and he can tell by the way she is undulating her hips that he locked in on his target.

He rewards her by nibbling and teasing her with his tongue. She shivers under the ministrations, and it sends a jolt straight to his cock. When she starts begging for more, he complies by moving his thumb to her clit as he plunges his tongue straight into her. She gasps and he switches tactics, thrusting two fingers in and out of her as his tongue works her clit.

Her legs are shaking now and he pulls his hands away, settling them on her thighs to hold her down as his tongue takes a more relaxed pace against her. "Bill!" she shrieks angrily. He darts his tongue into her once more, teasing her mercilessly. She tries to thrust herself onto him and he grips her thighs harder to keep her in place. He wants to make her desperate, wants to make her so eager for it that she takes control again.

She does. She bucks him off her and squirms away from him so he can not hold her down, and then she sits on his face. "Frak me with your tongue," she commands. He complies, and she trails a hand down to work her clit herself as he does. "More," she moans, and he grabs her thighs, forcing her down harder on top of him. He knows he will not be able to breathe like this for long, but he can tell she is getting close. She is moaning and then screams, and he feels her pulsate around him. Her body jerks and he refuses to let up, just keeps fraking her with his tongue even as she pulls her hand away and starts to bloom around his mouth.

"Frak," she mumbles as she comes down, lifting herself up slightly to give him more breathing room. "You," she gasps as she rolls off of him. "Are really good at that."

He is momentarily confused when she saunters off the bed. A haze of confidence mixed with the recent lack of oxygen almost made him forget what their intent was here tonight. Then he remembers what she has gone to retrieve.

When she reappears, she already has the strap-on harnessed. She strides over to the bed, eyes boring into him. "It is not not nice to make people beg, Commander," she says as she climbs on top of him. Frak, who is this woman? He almost can't reconcile her with the pain in the ass Secretary of Education he met on Galactica. Then she starts laughing. "Oh my gods, did I just say that? I have no idea what the hell I'm doing." She looks down at the strap-on and starts nervously giggling again. 

Everything about his past week of bad luck and embarrassment was worth it, just to see her laugh like that. 

He sits up to face her. "You are very convincing," he confesses, stroking her cheek and pulling her in for a kiss.

"I don't normally have sex like this," she admits as they pull apart, relaxing into the easy rapport they established at the bar. "Not that I don't like it. I do. Gods I was so turned on, the way you held me down." She pauses, blushing. "I guess I'm not used to being so --"

He can't finish that statement for her, he can't imagine her not being this way. He is swept away by her.

She smiles sideways at him and his heart physically aches at the sight. She gives up her secret when she finishes her statement, “Free."

He wants her to keep that freedom, and he begins to doubt himself once more. Would a woman such as this want to peg him?? It seems unreal. "We don't have to do this you know," he reassures, looking down at the holstered cock she’s wearing. "Though I would prefer to do something."

"Is that so?" she asks, her voice resuming a sultry tone. "Well, I want to. Do you want me to?"

"Frak yes," he groans, while reaching forward to taste the sheen of sweat on her neck. "But I don't want you to feel like you have to keep up an act. I can talk you through it."

"Will it still be good for you?" she asks, and he can't believe she is thinking about that.

"Yes, yes, it will be good for me. It already is."

She quirks her lips and smiles. "Okay," she agrees. "Because I really, really want to do this." Frak.

"Okay. Well, do you know the basics?"

"I know I should start with my fingers and lots of lube." She reaches over to her nightstand to retrieve a small bottle.

"Yeah, but, you don't have to do the prep work if you don't want to. I can handle it."

"Won't it hurt?" she asks, concerned.

"Only a little," he assures. "My ex never used to--Shit. I shouldn't bring up someone else."

Her eyes go dark at the mention of another woman. "No," she says. "Its alright. You have done this before, tell me about it." 

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she commands with executive power, and he flushes.

"She thought it was, well, gross, to use her fingers. Sometimes I would prepare myself or sometimes we would just go for it." 

"This is surreal, what we're doing." She says as she massages his hips.

He nods and agrees, and then he kisses her. He worships her with his tongue, giving her a taste of what he so enjoyed eating a few moments ago.

She hums against his lips as they pull apart. Eyes still closed she sighs, smiling, "Just tell me what you want me to do."

Holy shit. Even though he has spent decades supplying people with orders, it is not easy to form coherent thoughts when faced with her. The view he has of her while lying on his back is wonderful. Her auburn hair frames her features softly, her breasts are heavy and unfettered. Her pale skin shines through the dark room. She is almost glowing.

She follows his instructions, squirting lube on her fingers and then working them around his rectum. He sees her shiver as she takes his body in with her eyes. He is an old battered and bruised soldier, but the way she ogles him makes him feel like a hot-shot viper jock again. "Your dick is really nice," she says, stroking him with her delicate fingertips. Then she giggles lightly and meets his eyes. "Was that a weird thing to say?"

"No -- It's not a bad thing to hear," he finishes, gasping as she runs one thumb over the head of his cock as her other pauses at his back entrance.

"Mmm, okay, what next?" she asks, relubing her fingers for good measure. "Do I just... go for it?" 

He sees a mixture of nerves and intensity in her eyes and he barely manages to grumble, "Yes."

She gives him a sultry half smile and pushes her index finger inside. "This feels so weird," she murmurs, pulling her finger in and out experimentally. He can't help the strangled moan that escapes him as she surprises him with a second. "Good?" she asks.

"Yeah," he gasps. "Um, you can... feel around for the, ah, frak!" She found his prostate. "Laura, frak, yes."

She continues thrusting her fingers into him, sighing as she does, and she looks ridiculously gorgeous doing it. "Should I add a third?" she asks, her voice deep and ragged like she's genuinely enjoying this. He chokes out some sort of affirmative response and she maneuvers another finger into him.

"Laura," he moans. "Shit -- I, I'm ready."

Her eyes go dark as she strokes his cock a few times for good measure and then follows that up by touching herself briefly. "Okay," she says, voice trembling.

She makes a show of lubing the dildo and it's hotter than he thought possible. He needs her to put that fake cock in his ass immediately. "Laura, frak me," he groans.

She bites her lip and positions herself at his entrance. "Like this?" she asks, nudging the dildo gently against his hole.

"Yes," he chokes out. He raises his legs up to giver her better access.

"Okay," she murmurs as she thrusts into him. 

Frak, he'd forgotten how good it feels to be filled like this. He looks up at her: naked, debauched, and beautiful, and he begs her for more.

She pulls out slowly and then thrusts into him again. It is a bit awkward because she hasn't done this before, but that doesn't stop a ragged moan from escaping his lips. "Whoa," she mutters. "This is so strange."

"You're doing amazing," he praises. "Just --" He shifts slightly so the angle is better, and when she thrusts back into him this time, she goes deep.

She starts to build up a rhythm, and although it's still a bit slow and clumsy, it feels incredible. The concentrated look on her face is sexy as all hell. 

He's dying to touch himself and somehow manages to abstain. He wants this to last but he is sure that if he touches his cock it'll all be over.

She manages to pick up the pace a little, really getting into it. "Gods, this feels amazing," she says with a sigh, and he can tell she's getting off from the feeling of the strap-on against her. 

She gets a wicked smile and leans forward, pushing his legs further up so that she can really pound him and smacking his ass for good measure. "Fraking hell, Laura," he groans. He's so turned on it feels insane. She looks idyllic above him, fiery hair mussed and tits bobbing with a disbelieving look in her eye. She convinced him now; no longer an atheist, he is a believer, she is a Goddess.

"I really want to see you come like this, but oh Gods, I want your cock more," she moans. "I want your cock in me." As much as he wanted to come with prostate stimulation when this evening began, he could not agree more.

She pulls out and he seizes the opportunity to once again roll on top of her; smiling wickedly as shock registers on her beautiful face. She tries to press herself against him, but the strap-on is in the way and she grunts in frustration.

"Get this frakking thing off me," she pants, and his hands work frantically to remove it. She is moaning in anticipation. When he finally flings the apparatus from her body she gives an order of her own: "Pound me like I pounded you."

He is just about to launch inside of her when something registers. "Condom?" he asks, and the functioning part of his brain is proud that he remembered to ask when he really just wants to slam into her.

She pulls away, fumbles through her nightstand, and hands him one with shaking hands. "Gods," she stammers. "I don't think I've ever been this turned on -- you had better get that thing on fast."

This amount eagerness mixed with her natural authority really makes the task difficult. But the second he has it sorted, he pushes her quivering legs apart and thrusts into her. Her eyes slam shut as she reels at the sensation. 

He stops once he's fully pressed into her, partly for his own benefit (it will surely be better for them both if he lasts more than 10 seconds) and partly because he wants to make her beg.

"Move," she stammers. "Bill, please." She tries to buck her body against him, but she has very little control in her current position so it only amounts to mild squirming. He hoists her legs up higher and hooks his elbows under her knees causing her to squeal.

"Look at me," he demands. She forces her eyes open and gasps. "I want you to watch me frak you."

"Yessss," her eyes lock with his, her pupils wide as she reveals them to him, relinquishing control.

And then he fraks her. It's raw and dirty, the way her legs are now at his ears and her ass is hoisted off the bed. He is ramming into her, over and over again holding her up by her ass as their coupling makes some highly obscene noises.

"Bill, Bill, Bill, " she chants, and it's the most erotic thing he has ever heard. "Oh, frak, right there, oh frak me!"

She is still staring at him, her green eyes boring deep into him, and shit, it is so hot.

"Laura, you are so beautiful," he says, and he's about ready to lose it. 

"Ah--" she shrieks in response, and thanks be to her gods that she seems close to orgasm. He pumps harder as her legs start to twitch and her eyes are closed now, but he's no longer in a position to berate her. He's so close and she's clenching around him, her whole body spasming as she cries out his name.

He keeps pounding her, keeps fraking her until her orgasm makes him lose it.

Her legs fall off his shoulders and he collapses onto his back next to her. A barrage of curses passing through his lips.

"Woah," she breathes, sounding just as overwhelmed as he feels. They just lie for a moment, recuperating. That felt like they knew each other, like they knew just what would drive the other crazy. He has never had first-time sex like that. Frak, if he's honest, he's never had sex like that. 

"That was...," he murmurs, leaning in to kiss her temple. "You are amazing," he can't resist praising.

"Better than with a man?" she asks, breath shaky as he nibbles at her neck.

"Yes. In fact, there is really no comparison." There isn’t; she might not have been as adept as Caro used to be, but for a first try--Frak, it was hot; exponentially hotter by the fact that he got to teach the teacher.

She turns to face him, a huge smug and satisfied grin on her face. "You weren't so bad yourself," she praises. "At both the receiving and giving."

"Did the experience live up to your expectations?" He tries to sound confident and suave, but he's pretty sure he sounds more like a giddy nugget.

"Yes, I want to spend the rest of my days doing that over and over again." Oh, shit.

"Yeah?"

"Mmm," she purrs, leaning in to kiss him. "Think you could work that into your busy schedule?"

His brain practically shuts down at the implication that this might not be a one time thing. "You are in luck," he manages. "A high level bureaucrat just smacked my ass into an early retirement." He smirks.

Laura giggles. "Smacked your ass, huh?"

"Yeah," he affirms. "She's pretty good at that."

"Hmm," she replies, before turning towards him and kissing him deeply. "Bet she has other talents, too," she adds as they break apart.

"Many," he whispers back to her and she laughs.

They don't talk for awhile after that.

He wakes up to the sound of a keyboard tapping. There is a moment of confusion because he is used to waking up alone. Then he remembers that last night he had hot sex with Laura Roslin.

He forces his eyes open and sees her propped up against her headboard, computer in her lap. She looks focused and alert, with her glasses on the end of her nose. She notices he is awake and glances over at him, a shy smile on her lips and a faint blush on her cheeks. "Good morning," she says sweetly.

"Morning," he murmurs, his voice thick and rough. "What are you doing?"

"Just typing up my letter of resignation," she replies, as though that's what everybody does first thing in the morning.

"You are?"

"Yes," she replies, very matter of fact. "I'm finished with Richard..." She clears her throat. "The Adar Administration." He doesn't know what to say as she keeps typing. "I'm sorry. Is the computer making you uncomfortable?" She teases, discarding the laptop to her nightstand.

"You're very funny." He grins and props himself up next to her. "You're also very cute."

"Cute? No one has ever accused me of that. I'm too old to be cute."

"Well, I'll be your first for that too then."

"Mmm," she hums, leaning in to kiss him. "You have horrible breath," she giggles against his lips.

"Mmm, you too." He kisses her again anyway. "Very gross."

She bites her lip as they pull away. "So that was nice last night," she says.

"It was," he doesn't trust himself to say anything else. If he told her that it was one of the best nights of his life and surely the best sex of his life he might scare her off. He can't possibly tell her what he really feels.

"You got any plans today?" he asks, because deflection has always been his friend.

"Not really," she replies. "I was hoping to spend some time with this cute man I'm getting to know. You?"

"Should I be jealous? Because if you are calling me cute..."

"I am."

"Thank you for the compliment, Laura."

"Plans?" She repeats.

"I want to spend time with a sexy soon-to-be-former bureaucrat. but I'm worried about coming on too strong. Don't want to scare her off."

"You won't. And yes, you are very cute," she concedes. "I used to think you were a real pain in the ass, but you surprised me, Bill Adama." She punctuates the point by cuddling up next to him. "And you.. are a really, really good frak, so there's that." 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you are not so bad after all." She turns to kiss him. 

Basic hygiene had needed attending, which led to sex in the shower, which then led to sex out of the shower. By midday they are still wrapped around each other. Sleep, food, all life outside of their own making forgotten.

Bill is on such a high, making love to this woman. He gets carried away and grabs her left breast. He didn't think he was being rough but she suddenly pulls back. And all of the sudden she is a million miles away.

"Laura?" He pleads. "What is it?"

She scurries off the bed to look out her bedroom window and the carefree uninhibited woman he knew last night suddenly turns back into that rigid government official pain in the ass he met last week; cold and glib and no fun at all. 

"I have terminal breast cancer." She says in an eerily calm voice. It feels like she just blew two bullets in his chest. The regret and injustice he feels for only finding her now. And she's going to be taken away.

"I'm sorry, Laura." He says. But of course those words are not enough. He can't think straight after hearing that news. 

"It turns out it doesn't matter." She says, still looking out the window. Still cold and distant.

"Of course it matters!" He argues with rage building up inside him. He cannot bear to be on the other side of the room from her and he is suddenly scrambling to get her back in his arms. He kisses her neck. Her hair. He breathes her in; he tries to turn her back to him. Into his arms. Away from her window and the outside world. But she doesn't respond to his touch. She stays still. Staring outside the window.

After only a short time together he thinks -- he knows -- he can't live without her. When he sees what's turned his goddess to stone -- a dozen mushroom clouds lining the horizon -- he knows that he won't have to.

The End


End file.
